TF2: Perfect aim
by TheCrimsonValley
Summary: A lesson in aiming goes as expected at the Teufort base. Friendly fic between Soldier and Spy.


There was one thing that the spy was very certain about. And that was that one of these days their lovely soldiers training would for sure demolish the entire base and erase them all from the earth. But he hoped that this was not that day, he was nowhere near ready to be eliminated yet.

He put a new cigarette between his lips as he moved over towards where the full blooded American man was standing, once more aiming at those targets that the engineer had so nicely made for them to practice on. The French man sniggered as he realized that the short Texan probably made them as a hobby and then came up with a half assed excuse as to why one would find him carving wooden figures.

He was about to strike up a conversation when the broad man fired another of those rockets into one of the targets, completely demolishing it and sending wood flying over a great radius of at least five meters. At least the Spy thought he felt a few splinters landing in his hair, which he did find less than amusing.

"Oh mon ami, you sure are showing those targets who's the man" he then said, realizing that he as usual had managed to sneak up on his friend without even meaning to do so.

"Practice makes perfection!"

The spy rolled his eyes. He did like to pat his own back at times and this were one of those times. He could hardly see how shooting these giant projectiles blindly at targets were anywhere near perfection. Infiltrating and pretending and then stabbing someone in the back on the other hand. Now that was almost art!

"You should practice as well Frenchie, all that moving about! No way for a man to fight!"

The Frenchman looked in disbelief at the American, not being at all too fond of being cut off in his own thoughts like that. But then a huge grin spread on his lips and he pulled out his revolver, putting his feet into position as he started speaking.

"Now look, you might learn something"

As the words left his lips he aimed for the target, placing a good bullet in the chest without as much as breaking a sweat.

"Anyone can throw bullets around on a battlefield but what separates the professionals from boys playing war…"

Another bullet fired straight through the head of the target and somewhere the spy imagined a compliment from their sniper.

"Is precession and perfection"

The slender man turned towards the soldier, managing to catch the last of his amazement before the muscular man once more took on his stone cold poker face of unamusement.

"War's never been won by sneaking!"

The French man found this line more than laughable but somewhere he knew that these lines were defenses after all. He found the soldier amusing but certainly not a bad man, just not well educated in the art of conversation and debate.

"Mon ami, don't be shy to ask help with your… questionable aim."

He heard a row of curses escape the other mans mouth and a mille second later the American had fired a rocket, perhaps to show that he could indeed aim better than this "world war two surrendering French traitor". But it seemed like being upset didn't made the man's aim any better and they both watched as the rocket went straying, instead piercing through one of the walls of the base. What followed where a thousand shouts from the rest of their fellow mercs, shouting at their lungs that this was the last time that "crazy son of a bitch" destroyed their home and the spy even heard one of Scouts whines about how "it was always his room getting demolished!".

It only took one gaze between the French man and the American for them both to break into hysterical laughter. The spy felt how he had to grasp the shoulder of the other man in order not to fall over and how his stomach was torturing him with cramps brought on by the rows and rows of laughter.

When they both could breathe normally again he picked out another cigarette, the previous one having escaped his lips during the complete meltdown of his brain. With a swift gesture he offered one to the other man and he was more than pleased to see that the Soldier grabbed it, even allowing him to light it.

"Now that mon ami, was perfect aiming!"


End file.
